


The Day The Bus Broke Down

by Cate Shaw (Bluebell84)



Category: Dallon Weekes - Fandom, Panic! at the Disco, brendon urie - Fandom
Genre: Cops, M/M, Other, Strip Tease, Strippers, Stripping, brallon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell84/pseuds/Cate%20Shaw
Summary: Brendon and Dallon find themselves stranded on the side of the road, their tour bus on fire and their driver needing some serious meds.  Their only hope is to get some cash quickly, having discovered their credit cards had been stolen.  Brendon, of course, has the best idea.  Stripping.





	The Day The Bus Broke Down

“The day the bus broke down will live in infamy as the day Brendon had his best worst idea.”

“Stripping,” said Dallon, voice flat. “You said ‘stripping.’ Also, stop talking in the third person. It’s annoying as fuck.”

Brendon threw his friend and band mate a face. Excuse him for trying to make light of a shitty situation. 

The bus driver was finally out of view, having run down the road screaming about how he couldn’t take it anymore.

Brendon and Dallon stood outside the tour bus shirtless, as Arizona was a scorching 102 degrees and the AC was no longer working inside. In fact, nothing was working. The engine had burst into flames as soon as the driver hit a pothole. Though Dallon was quick to grab the tiny fire extinguisher covered in dust and buried under a bunch of shit, the driver had had enough.

"Yes," said Brendon seriously. "I said 'stripping'. I know a guy who does it and makes bank. Our credit cards were stolen, man. We need serious cash and fast. We'd have the bus fixed and a new driver in no time."

"Yeah, but it's.. you know. It's stripping." Dallon tried to use what was left in the fire extinguisher on himself, but there was nothing left. Just a tiny gust of air and a hissing noise.

"So what?" Brendon asked. "Just one night and I bet we make what we need," he continued, gesturing at his friend. "Women wanna get all up on that, don't they?"

Dallon laughed humorlessly. "Where do you suggest we start? We'd have to get hired Brendon."

"Look man, how hard could that be?"

Two hours later, he and a reluctant Dallon found themselves staring at a rack of costumes.

"Cops!" Brendon exclaimed in delight.

"I'm pulling rank on account of age and height. You can be Officer Urie. I am Detective Weekes."

Brendon threw his hands up in surrender. “Whatever gets you off, man. Doesn’t bother me one bit. Ladies love a man in a uniform. We are going to be swimming in change.”

“Dude. Bills, please. I don’t want quarter sized welts on this." Dallon gestured over his long torso.

They made a deal with the costume shop owner to dedicate their next album to Bob Saget in exchange for free costume rentals. But Brendon knew they wouldn’t be returning them. Oh no, Brendon was keeping his.

“Now to find the ladies..” Brendon thought out loud.

“I guess a club. There’s bound to be a gaggle of bachelorette parties happening. It’s a Saturday night, after all.” Dallon answered him.

Brendon scrunched his nose. “A gaggle?”

Dallon rolled his eyes and started to walk off to get dressed.

Half an hour later, the two were scouting the outside of a very pumped up club. The line to get in was nearly a mile long. The two wore aviators and were happy for the disguise since the crowd tended to be the age of their demographic.

“Now what, genius?’ Dallon elbowed Brendon.

“Now we wait for the drunk ones to come stumbling out,” Brendon shrugged.

"Shouldn't we, you know, like... advertise? Rub elbows? Drum up business?" Dallon asked.

"I'm the idea man, not the brains," replied Brendon. "I don't know that this operation has a brains."

Dallon made an offended noise, but stood taller and made for the club doors. "Just follow me, idea man," he said.

Brendon did follow. The bouncer took a look at the badges on their shirts and didn't even ask questions, just let them in. 

Dallon immediately saw a group of women who were definitely drunk, and made his way towards them. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he didn't really have to think about it.

One of the women approached them almost right away. "Is there trouble in here, officers?"

"We were looking to start a little, actually," he said in his most seductive voice. He felt a little ridiculous.

Brendon followed his lead. "You ladies need protection tonight?"

"Maybe we will," said the woman, her eyes appraising the both of them. "Did you bring any?"

It was almost too easy. Like something out of fiction.

Dallon was going to need a few drinks, but Brendon was in character already. In less than five minutes he had worked his way to the center of the ladies' attention and had an invitation to join them on their party bus secured.

Dallon couldn't believe this was fucking working. 

Brendon was delighted and held back a squeal of excitement as he glanced at Dallon.

They followed the group to their party bus, keeping stern looks upon their faces, staying in character. The ladies giggled and kept whispering to one another. Dallon heard one of them say “climb him like a motherfucking tree” and he inaudibly groaned.

Brendon sniggered quietly.

“Can we make sure this door will stay closed?” Dallon asked no one in particular. “Like, does it lock?”

Brendon ignored him and made sure music was blasting. Right Said Fred turned on, thanks to the maid of honor and Brendon immediately jumped into the zone. The women screamed, arms reaching out. One vomited almost immediately behind another and Dallon cringed.

Brendon tossed his shades into the small crowd and began to slowly unbutton his dress shirt. Dallon simply removed his badge and placed it carefully on an empty seat.

"Come on, buddy," Brendon encouraged him. "Give them a show." He leaned over and licked a stripe up Dallon's throat.

The women hooted and hollered.

Dallon felt woozy. He couldn't believe what was happening. But Brendon was right. He needed to get involved. They had no hope of making enough money if he didn't. 

Rather slowly, and not at all sure of himself, he started to undo his own buttons. He found that if he closed his eyes, it was easier to move, and soon enough was gyrating just a little as he undressed.

Brendon was way ahead of him and flaunting his backside to the screaming crowd. He smacked his own ass and looked back at the women and shook a single finger. Dallon sauntered up and smacked Brendon’s ass once, feeling all kinds of awkward, but something told him to do it.

Brendon stood straight up, not necessarily surprised, but pleased he was finally getting into it. He turned Dallon around and gave him a swift smack on the ass as well, much to the delight of the women.

“SUCK HIM!” one of them yelled.

Dallon took a step back, bewildered. These ladies were fucked up.

Brendon grinned and turned to face them, slowly pulling his shirt off of his shoulders. Dallon followed his moves. In one swift move, both of them had their shirts off and whipped them towards their adoring audience of horny as fuck drunk women.

Dallon was feeling a bit worried that he had not seen a single dollar bill since they began. But he had never done this before. Maybe it all got tossed toward them at the end. Brendon didn’t seem bothered one bit. He had picked up his shirt and draped it around the head of the bride to be, pulling her face close to his chest.

Dallon got close to one of the bridesmaids, realized it was the one who had just vomited and quickly moved to the one next to her, letting her hands rub down his pecs and stomach.

A new song came on, not one they were familiar with, but the beat was perfect for the job and thus they continued. Brendon had begun to work on his belt. As he unbuckled it, he kicked off his shoes, one at a time.

Again, Dallon followed him, his confidence slowly starting to build, but keeping an eye on Miss Upchuck.

Why was Brendon so good at this? When he said “friend” did he really mean himself? Dallon tried not to think too much of it. He knew his fans enjoyed seeing his ‘leg thing’ so as he undid his own belt and kicked off his own shoes, he brought his knees together and did his little dance and it worked. The hollers grew and a flash of green passed in front of them. Brendon twerked down to reach the bill someone had thrown, slipping it into his boxer briefs. Dallon did a double take when he realized Brendon was already in his skivvies.

Dallon needed to catch the fuck up. If this was the rate it would be going, they’d have to hit several more bachelorette parties. 

Brendon reached out for Dallon, yanking him to him by belt loops. He slowly licked a finger, then trailed it down Dallon’s chest, all the way to his belly button. Brendon grabbed Dallon’s belt and slowly pulled it free, whipping it in the air once, before tossing it to the ground once it cracked loudly.

The women were eating it up. Dallon had no problems teasing Brendon, sexually frustrating him. He’d had plenty of practice. And now it would really count. He raked his fingers up Brendon’s nape and firmly gripped his hair, carefully yanking his head back. He dipped his head and planted a small kiss on Brendon’s erratic pulse.

Brendon's eyes widened in surprise ever so briefly before he reciprocated by licking another very wet stripe up Dallon's throat.

"Yeah, baby! That's what Mama likes!" shouted one of the women. 

Dallon shook his finger at her. Oh no, she wasn't going to get any more than a tease.

Until a twenty dollar bill got stuffed in his drawers. Then he was more than willing to continue. As long as they kept forking over the cash, he'd fork over the sexy. 

He could not believe he'd just actually thought that, but reached for his fly and brought his pants down slowly anyway. He shimmied out of them at last and there was a chorus of hoots and hollers. His eyes searched for Brendon again, finding him giving a bit of a lap dance to one of the bridesmaids.

Encouraged, Dallon did the same. It wasn't a skill he'd know he had, but Brendon's example was easy enough to follow. Where had the guy picked all this up? 

Soon enough Brendon was at the front of the bus again, beckoning Dallon closer. Dallon gave in and danced his way nearer to his friend. His deranged friend, but still. 

Once he was close enough a Brendon looped a discarded belt around his waist and pulled him in, grinding against him. 

Dallon almost rolled his eyes at how over the top it was, but played along, making eyes at Brendon while he danced. Yet more money found its way to them. It was like the closer they got, the more the ladies were willing to spend. Still, he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. When does one stop in a situation like this? Two songs? Three? 

Another twenty floated through the air in front of his eyes, and suddenly he was experiencing the meaning of "making it rain". 

"You're a crazy man, you know that?" Dallon whispered in Brendon's ear.

Brendon's grin was enough to light up the whole inside of the bus. "Crazy like a fox, fucker!"

The song ended and Dallon thanked the ladies, picking up his clothes and the money that had fallen to the floor. He had no qualms about taking the money. They had literally thrown it at him.

There were some sounds of disappointment, but he really was done. He stuffed the money into his pockets as he pulled his trousers back on and searched for his shirt and badge. He expected Brendon to be doing the same but a new song started and so did the cheers.

Good lord, he was still going at it! Dallon found his shirt and slipped it on, finding his way to the back of the bus to grab his shoes. He was pretty sure they were back there and he wasn't getting roped into another strip tease. Brendon could do what he wanted; he was done. He needed to get out and find a place to count his earnings.

He sidled past screaming women and out the door, shaking his head while Brendon shook his ass.

He was halfway across the parking lot when one of the windows on the bus went down and Brendon's head appeared. 

"Dallon! We're gonna get ourselves TWO buses, buddy! Haha!" His goofy grin split his face. 

Dallon kept walking and gave him the finger for no particular reason other than that he felt like it. Maybe separate buses was a good thing. Then again, life was never boring with Brendon around.


End file.
